


Come and Go

by Ahn-Li Steffraini (komiiro)



Series: Change Comes to Everything [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-01
Updated: 2011-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komiiro/pseuds/Ahn-Li%20Steffraini





	1. Chapter 1

Gwen came in silently that morning.  In fact, it was a habit all of them had picked up ever since they had managed to pick up one more alien to add to their growing collection.  The only difference between this alien's 'collection' and the rest of them was that Jack tended to ask, nicely, for his help instead of keeping him prisoner.  Gwen smiled as she peeked into the sleeping alien's room and came to a quick stop.

He was still asleep, and all she could see of him was his back underneath the blankets as he lay sleeping on his side, facing away from the office space.  She could just barely hear the sound of soft rhythmic snores.

Weeks ago, their lives had been turned upside down when they had to turn their conference room into a hospital room for the ailing alien.  It had, slowly and as the alien had recovered more and more, grown into a bit more like his private room and very limited workspace and office.  Medical equipment for a heart patient still sat beside the bed, just in case, but had not been needed for the past few days when Owen, with a few other xeno-medical colleagues, had proclaimed the alien healthy enough to not require the equipment.

He wasn't healthy by far, and still spent most of his time sleeping, but at least now he wasn't attached to monitors and IV lines, although Owen still checked him over morning and night...

... Gwen silently closed the door more and went down to the office to start turning things on.

Gwen was sure, other than Owen, that she was the first here.  Owen tended to stay here at night as well, ever since the alien known as the Doctor had been moved here from the Leadworth Medical Centre and not been cleared for even light duty or to be sent 'home' or in the least released from twenty four hour medical watch.

It seemed to be a slow process, he had already been in a hospital - if you included the time at Torchwood - for just over a month and was already chewing through the fifth week.  The cog wheel cycled open, and then stayed that way as the lights came on.  Gwen looked up as Jack walked in, using the catwalk to look in on his friend, but stepped back equally quickly, closing the second door completely before retracing his steps and coming to to Gwen.  "Was he asleep when you got here?"

"Just got here a few moments myself," she answered quietly.  "And he was snoring then."

"Well, he's still snoring," said Jack, with a smile.  "Nearly nine o'clock in the morning.  Will have to ask Owen..."

"Ask me what?" asked Owen as he came up from Autopsy.

"How well did the Doctor sleep last night?" asked Gwen.

"Solid - fell asleep while reading at around ten, hasn't moved except to roll over like a normal sleeping man since.  Although... Jack, can I talk to you?" asked Owen, motioning him to follow the 'dead' medic into autopsy.  Jack did, and when they were alone, Owen turned back around.  "Did you know he has night terrors?"

"He has _what?!_ " exclaimed Jack, then with a startled look at his outburst he quieted after looking around, almost as if something would sweep in at the outburst.  "No, I didn't.  It never showed up in the hospital, did it?"

"No, but we've been backing off on the sedatives each night to wean him back to a normal sleeping pattern... what ever that is for him... and last night I was quite startled by screams and garbled commands in a language I've never heard before..." Owen turned on the recording, and Jack could hear his friend's voice shouting, sometimes clearly, what in tone sounded like orders, other times it would fall off and then come back like cries of pure torment, in the same language... Jack felt spooked and he could see the mirror of the same expression on Owen's face.  "I'm guessing it's his native language... and it's pretty even if the sub-tonals and harmonics that his larynx can produce can't be produced by a human one.  I would have written it off as possible withdrawal from the sedative and tranquillizers, but we've been careful to back it off slowly... and this seems like something else.  Was he... was he a soldier?"

Jack took a breath, and then paced.  Owen watched, his expression softening.  "He was."

"He fought in a war, something called the Last Great Time War." Jack looked up and at the wall as if he could see through the wall and to the sleeping alien in question.  "Those sound like flashbacks, even if I can't understand what's said, the meaning is easy enough to hear."

"Yeah, I figured it was something like that," said Owen with a bit of a sigh.  "What the fuck do we do now?  Like really?  I'm no fucking psycho-analyst, especially not a xeno-psychologist.  We can't let him keep doing that or he'll be back in the hospital again... in fact I have a feeling that had something to do with the heart attack in the first place."

Jack blew out a breath through his lips.  "I had no idea... I mean... if you knew him before you'd never know but, at the same time I guess I should have known.  Just because he's not human doesn't mean he's not..."

"A thinking, feeling living being?" asked Owen.  "Yeah.  We got Gwen to help us remember we're dealing with humans up there.  Now we've got him to remind us that aliens are living and often sentient, with emotions and issues all their own.  Big fucking surprise there.  He fits right in!"

Jack glared at Owen and the medic blew out another breath.  "Sorry.  I keep my typical to myself with him around.  He's like someone's grandfather, really, with the not being able to handle a few nasty words.  Like it shocks his delicate sensibilities.  I have to take moments away from him to blow off steam."

"Owen, he's a Time Lord.  According to other races out there the Time Lords were a race full of stiff shirts as a culture, and to top it all off he's old.  Real old... not really by his own race's standards for real old but getting there," explained Jack.  "He is likely someone's grandfather... and you met Braxiatel..."

"Yeah, yeah, stiff shirt of stiffs.  I get it."

"Another one of their race was Harold Saxon."  Jack looked at Owen sideways, and watched as Owen sputtered in shock.  "Now, he was eccentric, but remember now that you've seen three.  Common among them all is?"

"Stiff shirts," answered Owen.  "Arrogant stiff shirts, but point is taken."

"Be patient with him.  Chances are that he won't remember having the dreams, especially now that he's had a few hours of restful, dreamless, sleep... or won't admit it."

* * * * * * * * *

  
He rolled over from his side, to his back, blearily letting himself drift in that comfortable area between sleep and waking.  His limbs felt leaden, as if under heavy blankets, as did his entire body.  If he'd been more awake he would have been able to tell himself that it was because the muscles had completely relaxed, letting him flop limp and seemingly boneless in the paralysing embrace that came with sleep... the natural reflex so that one didn't act out dreams but instead could only lie still or do no more than twitch fingers aimlessly while the mind could literally be doing somersaults.

The next leap his mind would have taken would have been to explain that sleepwalking occurred when this 'reflex' to shut down physical response was overridden instead.

But he wasn't quite awake.  His synapses, normally faster than lightening, refused to fire or did so with half-hearted aimless twitches.

This suited him fine, really.

Again, had be been awake he could have quipped a quote by Newton, such as, "A body in motion tends to want to stay in motion whilst one at rest tends to want to remain at rest."

Apt.

If his mind or body felt like being clever.  Which at the moment they did not.

He was resting, and wanted to stay that way, rebelling at the thought of waking.  He was warm, comfortable... relaxed and carefree.

But his own mind was latching onto the increased activity outside his room.  Torchwood was becoming active as people filtered in for the day and for work.  He could already smell coffee, and while he preferred tea, the smell was heavenly.

The Doctor sighed deeply as his eyes flickered open as waking also brought awareness and conscious thought and the sense of self to the Time Lord.  He rubbed his face and sat up, slowly stretching out the kinks and his joints crackled as he moaned through the stretch.  He then stood up, slipping the slippers onto his feet and throwing the dressing robe over his shoulders before tying the robe closed.  With a shuffle he walked to the door and opened it, wincing at the sudden brightness.

* * * * * * * * *

  
Toshiko Sato didn't know what made her look up from her computers, but when she did so she couldn't help but stare at the alien man at the top of the stairs in front of what had been... until he'd been brought in... the conference room but had then been made into his sickroom.  It was literally the first time he'd stepped outside of it since being here, and therefore, except for when he had first came in and then he'd been asleep, the first time she'd ever laid eyes on the Doctor.

He seemed to feel her stare and he blinked at her, then smiled a small smile.  Tosh smiled back then waved to get Ianto's attention.  Ianto then looked up and started, surprised.  "Doctor!" he exclaimed.  "Can I get you something to drink?  Perhaps tea?  Breakfast?"

"Tea would be wonderful, Mr. Jones," answered the Doctor.  "Where's Jack?"

"Talking to Owen," answered Gwen.  "I'll..."

"Don't bother, we heard," said Jack as he and Owen came from autopsy.  "Doc... what do you think of Torchwood?  Seeing as its your first time seeing the Hub..."

"Hmm... I like it better than the other I saw.  This one seems more... I don't know... it feels more lived in.  The other was too cold, lab like, for my tastes.  Felt like a prison," answered the Doctor as he came down the stairs, one step at a time and with one hand cautiously on the rail.

He was clearly not too steady on his feet yet.  Jack grasped his elbow and guided him to the nearby couch and helped him sit, a pillow behind his back and another one behind his head.  The Doctor watched Jack fuss over him in amusement but, maybe because he didn't feel completely healthy or energetic yet, he didn't fight him over it.  "Would you like tea, Doctor?" asked Ianto.

"Actually, no, I smelled coffee..."

"... No," Owen interjected.  "He can have tea but absolutely no coffee.  Not satisfied with your tests yet to let you have that."

The Doctor looked at Owen in shock but sighed, and said, "Tea it is.  Milk, three sugar..."

Ianto looked over at Owen, who nodded his assent, then he back into autopsy.  Ianto brought the Doctor his tea and the Doctor sipped it, smiled in appreciation, and then his stomach growled.  Jack looked at him in surprise.  "I just woke up," explained the Doctor, with a shrug.

"I'll go get him something," said Ianto.  "Doctor... ah... what would you like?"

The Doctor shrugged and Owen, hearing that last bit, came up the stairs from Autopsy, looked over at the Doctor and said, "Nothing fried, no greasy crap..."

The Doctor closed his eyes with a sigh.  "So much for bacon and eggs," said Ianto.  "And no coffee."

"Does it even qualify as breakfast?" asked the Doctor rhetorically.

"I'll go and see if I can find something that does despite that," answered Ianto, smiling slightly.

Despite the reticence and dubious attitude, Jack had to admit that in his typical way the Doctor had overcome and won over his team.  Ianto had been the most standoffish.  The few who survived Canary Wharf had walked away from it with their own views as to what happened.  Ianto had not come out of it unscathed - he had lost Lisa and the posh office he was used to.  His life had come to a crashing halt.  The man responsible, according to the official report, was none other than the Doctor.  Yvonne Hartman's role wasn't underplayed, no, actually it served as a very solid warning as to why alien technology had to be treated with far more respect that it had been under her leadership.

Mind you, a certain space Titanic not crashing into Buckingham Palace had made the Queen decree that Torchwood would not actively pursue the Doctor... and he was no longer to be their 'enemy'.  The new byline was that Queen Victoria, in her fear and ignorance - not that she was necessarily blamed for it as she dealt with it with what knowledge she had in the times she lived - had jumped the gun a bit in exiling him and calling him an enemy of Britain when it was so clear that long after her death he was far more Defender than enemy.

And so the Queen, this modern Queen, had decreed his "exile" over and that he be welcomed, properly, if still under the classified cloak of secrecy.  To anyone's knowledge the Doctor and Queen had not met face to face nor so much as exchanged words by any other means.

It made Jack's life easier although the Doctor was still regarded with a bit of suspicion by the old guard of Torchwood.

Except at Torchwood Three where some of the 'old guard' had been won over completely by him.  Oh sure, it helped that it was truly difficult to be threatened by someone who had for the past month and a half been all but practically on his deathbed, and was still quite ill and it showed.  Sometimes Jack would watch the Doctor sleep and wonder if he'd ever bounce completely back or if this quiet, subdued and less-than-energetic Time Lord was the new normal.

And then Braxiatel, his elder brother, had shown up and stepped into the Doctor's shoes for him.  Donna Noble, at the Doctor's prodding, had gone with him to parts unknown because both Time Lords had asserted that she needed to - a Fixed Point in time was in danger of breaking if she did not.

They had not heard from either Braxiatel or Donna since.

Jack was about to fall into a brood, but at that moment his office phone started ringing.  With a sigh, Jack patted the Doctor's shoulder and he looked up from his conversation with Gwen with a bit of a nod.

* * * * * * * * *

  
When the Doctor had called Shan Shen the universe's version of Chinatown, he had not been kidding.  Braxiatel did not find this kind of place his idea of paradise, but Donna appeared to be enjoying it.  Not for the first time he had to wonder if this Fixed Point that was supposed to happen here had more to do with her ability to shop non-stop.

They wandered through the streets and she was more concerned with him.  "Have you figured it out yet?"

"No..." he admitted, then shrugged off another merchant bound and determined to sell him yet another trinket.  "It more or less has to do with you being here."

Donna turned to him.  "Look, Space..."

"If you even think about calling me some half baked nickname I'll warn you that unlike my brother I won't tolerate it," he warned, his voice low.  "I don't have the same patience he has for you humans."

She looked at him in surprise, her mouth forming an 'oh' of surprise, but the silence only lasted so long.  "Well, I can see one thing you have in common with him."

"What is that?"

"You're both full of yourselves."

Braxiatel blinked.  "What?"

"And you say that the exact same..."

"What?!"

"See?"

Braxiatel shut his mouth, refusing to allow her the gratification of the third 'what' that he felt like exclaiming in indignation.  He breathed while trying to get himself under control.  This woman was beyond infuriating, and she was also regarding him, her eyes all but dancing, with more than a little bit of amusement.  He let a breath go in a sigh.  "I honestly do not see why he tolerates you in particular."

She lifted her brows, looked slightly hurt, but she hid it quickly before she turned and walked quickly into the throng, leaving him behind.  He took another calming breath before moving to follow her but realized she had lost herself too quickly.

Swearing in Gallifreyan, Braxiatel idly wondered how he was going to explain to his brother how he had lost one of his human Companions.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor woke from his nap abruptly.  The Hub was silent and he was still on the same couch as he had unintentionally fallen asleep on.  As he rubbed his chest absently, he took a few breaths.  He knew his traveling days were pretty much up but he still felt the pang of regret.  The TARDIS was right here, right where Jack had left it.  So close but... he could feel the sudden backlash of a set of images and feelings, the equivalent of Don't you dare! from the TARDIS.  He grimaced.

"No intention of it," he answered in a whisper.  "Where did everyone go?"

He was shown the vision of them packing up their gear and leaving the Hub.

"All of them?" he asked in surprise, and was further surprised when he looked up at the whiteboard.

Jack had written him a message saying that they had received a call out and so had gone.  He had fallen asleep on the couch after breakfast and his tea, and no one wanted to disturb him.  With a sigh, the Doctor leaned back on the couch.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with images and empathic patches of feelings.

 _Pain/Fear/Fire/Smoke_

The Doctor blinked in alarm and looked at the TARDIS, thinking it was her.  No, everything was fine but she had also picked up on the signal.  "Brax?" asked the Doctor, both vocally and telepathically but Braxiatel's so very distant response was one of mere exasperation and frustration, not pain or fear.

Not his brother, not Donna.  Not the TARDIS.

That left... he blinked in alarm as the Hub suddenly felt so very, very cold and lonely.

... Jack and his team.

* * * * * * *

Braxiatel was a bit surprised at his brother's query, and only allowed some of the frustration at the missing Donna situation show through.  He had found Donna, quite by accident, and while she appeared introspective and quiet she was perfectly fine.  The charlatan "fortune teller" and her strange beetle had been dealt with decisively.  He hoped that it wasn't because of that.

"Are you... ah... unharmed?" he asked finally as he led her to a chair and pushed her to sit in it.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered as she looked up at him.  "What happened?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he answered drily.  "On my side of things you were being scanned; your mind invaded... almost like they were feeding off your time line... I am sorry if the manner of my dealing with such a threat was different than what my brother might have done."

She shook her head.  "No, no, it's fine."

"But it is not, is it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  Finally he sighed and sat down across from her, and in an unusual show of compassion, he touched her hand.  "Donna Noble, you are not fine.  If my senses lead me correctly, and they often do, you are as far from fine as you can get."

"I can't remember it all.  It was... like a dream only not like a dream," she answered, crinkling her brows.  "I remember one thing, there was was this woman.  A blonde.  She helped me through it.  Something was off about her.  She knew things.  It was like... like being with you and your brother."

Braxiatel blinked as some feeling he was not overly familiar with crept up his spine.  "How so?"

"She was human, she assured me of that," said Donna as she looked up and then at him.  "She told me to remember something, that the Doctor would understand."

"What was it?"

"Bad Wolf."

Braxiatel blinked.  It meant literally nothing to him and he shrugged.  "Perhaps to him," he answered, visibly relaxing.  "I'll have to mention it to him when we get back."

"When are we?" she asked.

"Well, judging by the time lines, this was the Fixed Point you were meant not to miss."

"So... anytime..." she appeared a bit disappointed.

He sighed.  "Indeed."

"Do we have to?"

He looked at her in surprise.  "What?  You cannot be serious.  I don't do what my brother does.  You would be bored with me."

"Boring actually sounds nice," she answered with a grin.

With a sigh, Braxiatel decided that perhaps she wasn't so unbearable after all.  She had spirit.  Even he had to admit that.  She certainly wasn't stupid.  She was no Romana, but for a human she was passable.  "Very well, I will endeavor to find a place my brother would find suitably dull... and actually have it remain so.  As it so happens I know just the place."

Braxiatel stood up and, in an old fashioned gesture, offered his arm to her.  She took it and rose with him with only a raised eyebrow.  Obviously his brother was remiss in his manners.  That was something he would have to rectify while his ever annoying younger brother was convalescing and for once actually sitting still enough to listen to him.  No matter.  That was for later.  He then remembered something, and with a smile to Donna, sent the necessary reassurance to his brother that all was well.

He didn't bother to listen for a response.

* * * * * * * *

Jack pulled himself out of the rubble of the building and looked around frantically.  Rhys and Gwen were already there and pulling the others out.  With a curse, Jack stood up and asked, "Are we all in one piece?"

"Yeah, amazingly enough," answered a very subdued Owen, looking at Tosh and Gwen meaningfully.

"Good, let's get the hell out of here," said Jack as he led them out.

A beeping on his wrist alerted him and he brought up his Vortex Manipulator, now mostly useless thanks to a friend, but it still had its uses.  One of them being the very advanced communications suite.  There was a holographic image on it that made Jack's heart sink into his very shoes.  First, because it was someone he had been searching for.  Secondly because there was no way he should have been anywhere near this time period, or even this world.

It was his own brother Grey.

What is with brothers crawling out of the woodwork? mused Jack darkly.  First the Doctor's brother, now mine...

"Hello Jack, if you're getting this then it's message received and somehow you've managed to survive the little present I've left you."  Jack knew this voice; it was John Hart.  He found himself grinding his teeth at the former Time Agent's nonchalance.  "It doesn't matter now.  Just know that I've come to be very well aquainted with his young man here.  Curious thing, brothers..."

"What have you done with him?" demanded Jack harshly and he saw his team look up in surprise.

"Oh, nothing yet... but perhaps you should be worried about what I'll do with you and your team.  Start dancing, Jack.  You've this bad habit of leaving your back door unlocked with nobody home.  Never know who might visit or what might get left behind."

"Oh God, Jack, the Doctor is still there..." said Tosh in a quiet and shocked voice.

Thankfully that outburst wasn't picked up by the comm unit in the Vortex Manipulator.  "I'll be in touch, Jack."

With that the hologram and the comm signal cut off.  Jack turned to his team.  "We need to get back to the Hub, right now.  Gwen, call the Doctor see if..."

Gwen was already on the phone and Tosh was accessing her computers in the SUV.  He heard Tosh's sigh of relief when she said, "He's fine... in fact, just woke up from his nap and likely a bit confused as to where we've all gone... and answering the phone... now Gwen..."

"Doctor?  Oh thank God you're all right.  Listen, did anyone enter the Hub while we were gone?  I know... can you look around real quick and make sure there's nothing too out of place?  You sensed us?  How... no nevermind..."

"Gwen, he's looking around now..."

"Okay, the only clue we got was that an old enemy of Jack's... no time to explain.  I don't think he had anything to do with you.... Jack, did John Hart ever meet the Doctor or know of him?" asked Gwen.

"No, he was a Time Agent like me.  Old partner."

"You heard that?  Okay, he said that Jack had a bad habit of leaving his back door unlocked with nobody home.  I take that to mean that if he came in he didn't see you so he didn't go as far as the offices or anything.  Maybe the garage.  Yes, it's critically important.  He said that we'd never know who might visit or what they might leave behind."

"Gwen, he just stood straight, like ramrod straight..."

"I don't know, Doctor, but it might be.  The garage level is..."

Jack grabbed the phone.  "Never mind, Doc, get out of the Hub.  Put something on fast, and just leave.  Get in the TARDIS and take her to Martha or Sarah Jane.  No, don't worry about us.  We'll sort this.  No, you listen.  Please, just get out of there.  You don't know Torchwood like we do.  Hell, get into the Vortex and temporally hover there and when we get back, we'll call you back if you want to help out.  But if it goes off... and it has nothing to do with you... I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt over it."

"Jack, he's in the TARDIS and the TARDIS is... wow... that was... well... it's just gone."  Tosh turned to him.  "How did it do that?"

"Thank you, Doctor," whispered Jack into the phone as he closed it and handed it back to Gwen.  "Everyone, back to the Hub... now."

* * * * * * * *

The drive back was a tense one, and once in the garage, they wasted no time in searching the garage before sweeping the entire area.  Tosh shook her head.  "False alarm."

Jack picked up his cell and dialled it.  "You can come back now."

A wheezing sound unlike anything any of them had ever heard filled the Hub as the TARDIS simply faded back into existence.  It was like it had never left.  The double doors opened and the Doctor, a bathrobe covering his pyjamas and a pair of slippers on his feet, came out with a somber expression.  "What the hell was that about?" he asked immediately.

"Long story," answered Jack.  "The Hub is clear.  It was thankfully a false alarm.  Meant to shake us... and it worked.  Should have known.  The garage was as locked as it always is, and the only other ways in would have taken him right past you.  I'd hate to say it... but the Hub isn't secure anymore."

The Doctor blew out a breath in exasperation.  "No where ever is.  Well... maybe I can help fix that."

"No heavy lifting," barked Owen.  "No full duty work.  You haven't been cleared yet and you know it."

"I didn't mean that way... I meant for as... say... a consultant?  I'll take a look around and suggest ways to improve the weak areas.  It'll be up to you to fix them," answered the Doctor, slightly defensive, which made it clear he had been thinking of involving himself a bit more directly than merely consulting.

This earned him a glare from Owen who saw right through the innocent act, but Owen nodded.  "Fine, I can allow that, but only four hours a day with plenty of breaks.  And in between you still need to rest.  So, not four consecutive hours.  An hour of consulting, then you take a break for an hour... and so on... get me?"

The Doctor nodded and held up his right hand.  "Scouts honour.  I swear I'll not do more than you clear me for."

"Great, start tomorrow."  Jack led the Doctor back up to his room.

"But, but... you said that the breach was affecting how secure the Hub is..." cajoled the Doctor.  "You need this done.  Let me at least get a start on it.  Maybe draw up a plan of attack for myself."

Rhys watched the alien be led up the stairs to the conference room that was now a sick room.  He looked at Gwen.  "Who was that?"

"Oh, he's... ah... classified," answered Gwen.  "We know him as the Doctor."

"The same Doctor the PM called for at Christmas when that asteroid ship full of aliens that somehow managed to almost make a third of the planet jump off their roofs?" asked Rhys in surprise, and was surprised when Gwen nodded.  "I expected something different."

"So did we all," pointed out Ianto as he walked by.

* * * * * * *

"Jack, listen to me," started the Doctor.  "I know and I understand why you want me to take a rest and all, but you said this was a matter of life and death.  You literally just told me to leave because of this.  There isn't any time to waste over it."

Jack sat the Doctor down on the edge of his own bed and sighed.  "I know.  But first let Owen check you over.  Everytime, and I mean everytime, you have traveled by car or helo you've ended up weak, sleepy and sick again.  It's like you relapse with the stress of being moved.  And now I just made you move yourself and come back.  And I know how you pilot the TARDIS.  You run around in it and I could see the beads of sweat on your forehead from across the room which means in a few minutes you're going to..."

He wasn't surprised when the Doctor's eyes went a bit glassy and dull, and then he went pale.  "Jack... I'm not feeling too good..."

"... crash, like I said.  You don't travel well when you're this sick."  Jack sighed as Owen came in and they helped the alien lay back down on his bed.  "Just give yourself a bit of time.   Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow."

"... you think I'll take that long to bounce back?" murmured the Doctor as he rested his head in his pillows.  "Maybe.  Maybe not."

With that the Doctor fell asleep as Owen checked him over and Jack covered the sleeping man with his blankets.  The two men left his room, turning down the lights as they did so.  Owen sighed.  "He'll likely sleep all night."

Rhys looked up at them.  "What was that about?"

"Nothing Rhys.  Take Gwen out for a night on the town, will ya?" said Jack, only half asking.  "She needs the break from here."

"Yeah, sure," answered Rhys, a bit uncertainly.

* * * * * * * *

Braxiatel was true to his word when it came to finding dull planets.  In fact, unlike his younger brother, he rather enjoyed less adventurous ways to pass his time.  He was more academic and introspective than the Doctor which meant his TARDIS avoided places that were chaotic, even if he otherwise tried to go to them.  It simply missed the time period.

Donna found herself suspecting the nice, quiet respite was about to go sideways at any point.  When it didn't she finally started to allow herself to relax into the lazy atmosphere of the planet.

Braxiatel was off to the side, and while he appeared to be relaxed, she could tell that he never actually did.  He was constantly thinking.  Planning.  Looking for some angle on something.  Donna knew the type.

She might have missed it in Lance but now that she knew what to look for she could see it in Braxiatel.  He was not in this for any other reason that he was going to get something out of it for himself in the end.  Something he wanted... but Donna had no idea what it was or what he would possibly desire.

Finally, once he proclaimed, "All right, I believe we have spent enough time here," she believed she might have figured it out.

Braxiatel was a thief.  She could see it in the way he watched things, not people.  It was the possessions that fascinated him.  But not just anything.  Expensive things, such as jewels, money, or other currency held no draw to him.  It was the rare things and the odd things.  Items that might not have worth anything if someone were to buy them, but she had heard things about Professor Irving Braxiatel and the Braxiatel Collection.  It was always odd that his collection had the rare, the strange and the priceless but somehow had never been stolen or destroyed.  Like someone who went back in time (because he likely had) to a time when the artist was poor and unknown and bought a few of the more famous paintings and then went back to the future when such things were priceless.

It was stealing without stealing.

And the Braxiatel Collection was full of such items - and the worst part that that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Braxiatel also had a tendency of having items that should have been, by all rights, destroyed in unfortunate and tragic circumstances.  Fires that swept through museums and destroyed everything else but this one priceless item that was safely in his Collection...

Donna could read that writing on the wall.

Braxiatel was a collector of things that should not exist.

That was his weak point.  It was strange.  Braxiatel spent every waking hour, and perhaps those hours where he actually slept, trying to maintain how different he was from the Doctor.  Irony was they were cut of the same cloth.  Hardly surprising since the Doctor and Braxiatel were brothers.  The Doctor spent his time collecting adventures and memories of places and times.  Braxiatel spent his time collecting the things that marked the same thing his brother did.

The Doctor existed to collect the intangible while his brother the tangible.

Perhaps the biggest difference was the approach.  Braxiatel bled Time Lord tradition if cut.  The Doctor didn't.  Braxiatel had chased after titles, honours and placement on Gallifrey and the Doctor had run from it.

But, to Donna, all she could see was how much the same they were.

All that remained was to figure out what misadventure Braxiatel had decided to find here and, if he was anything like his brother, it would shortly involve running.


End file.
